Red is the Rose
by TrenchcoatsAreSexy
Summary: Walt is off to New Hampshire, but he needs to tie up loose ends first, and things get more complicated than he ever imagined. AU post-Confessions.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Children in danger, violence, future non-con**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Breaking Bad and none of this belongs to me. **

**Chapter One: Taken**

Brock was almost afraid to breathe. Everything had happened so quickly and he didn't know what to do. He was pressed hard against the floor, under his bed, hiding behind a blanket that hung down off of it. He wanted to peek out and see but then they might see him and Jesse had told him to stay hidden no matter what until it was safe to come out.

"How will I know?" Brock had asked, and Jesse had looked sad then.

"Probably when a police officer calls for you, Brock. Okay? Can you stay hidden until then?"

"Okay," Brock replied softly. Fear was ebbing at every corner of him, but he listened to the instructions. His mother and Jesse seemed dead serious. He needed to listen to them…

And there he was. He'd heard everything they had said after that, Jesse's burst of a confession saying that a man named Walter White might be coming for them all and that they needed to get out of town. "This man poisoned Brock, Andrea… This man… I don't know what else he might do to get to me. We need to leave, we need to leave now. But if he comes now we need to make sure Brock is safe. Is there anyone who can come get him?"

"What about Saul?" Andrea asked, "Don't you trust him?"

Jesse shook his head.

"Not anymore."

The door had burst open then. There had been a sound of surprise from Jesse and a scream from Andrea.

"I'm guessing Mr. White sent you," Jesse hissed with rage.

A voice belonging to a man Brock couldn't see replied, "That old coot? He doesn't know about this. He'd never sacrifice his precious Jesse…" The voice was seething with condescension. "Housed up with his little spic slut. That whore Lydia's demanding a better cook or she's going to fire us from our own damn operation. You're going to show Todd how to do it."

"Todd? That whackjob is behind this? Guess he was too much of a pussy to come on his own so he sent you assholes."

"Shut up, Pinkman. If you do what we want, maybe we'll let your bitch and her kid live. Where is that kid anyway? Brock, oh Brooooock!"

"You leave him the fuck out of it! He isn't even here, and you'll never find him."

Brock shook. This man was scary and this man wanted to find him… But Jesse was going to protect him. He was going to be okay. He just had to stay hidden like Jesse had said. Like he was playing.

He held his breath and listened. He wanted to peek, to see what was going on, but it was too dangerous. He would just stay here, still.

"Come with us, Jesse," the man declared a few moments later, "Make it easy on yourself. We don't want to hurt you… But we will if we have to." Brock heard a struggle and then a horrible sound of someone getting hit, hard. He knew that sound. He hated that sound.

He could hear his mom cry out, too, and Brock scooted further under the bed. He should go to her, he should do something, he needed to do something… But what could he do? He was just a kid… those men were big and scary.

But a little voice whispered to him in his head, _Tomas would know what to do. Tomas wasn't afraid of anything. Don't be a little scaredy-cat, Brock. _Still he couldn't move. He was fixed to the spot. There was the sound of a door opening, and Brock stayed, still, waiting for the person Jesse said would come.

He waited a long time, to the point where he was hungry and needed the bathroom besides, but he wasn't going to budge in case those men were still out there.

He didn't know how long it was before he heard the footsteps and then a familiar voice calling, "Jesse? Jesse? Are you there? It's me. It's Walt. Are you alive? Jesse, come out!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Plus One**

Walt heard a little squeak coming from under the bed. Considering that Jesse wouldn't have fit under the bed, even at the peak of his skinniness, and that he wasn't sure Jesse could have ever made that particular sound, he figured it must be Brock hiding under there.

"Brock? Is that you down there? It's okay to come out. I won't hurt you."

He slowly lifted up the blanket that was shielding the area under the bed from view and saw two little brown eyes staring at him, open wide and full of fear. The little figure was pressed against the floor, shivering. _Found you._

"Brock," Walt said softly, crouching down. "It's all right. I'm Jesse's friend, remember? What happened?"

"Walt?" Brock echoed. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"You can come out, Brock. Tell me what happened, okay?" Walt encouraged. He felt like he was back in the first year of he and Skyler's marriage, trying to convince their kitten to get out from under the oil tank in their basement. "It's okay, it's okay."

Brock stared at him, before very slowly scotching forward. Once he saw, perhaps, that Walt wasn't going to grab him and pull him out, he slipped out the rest of the way. He didn't stand, but rather sat and curled himself into a ball.

"Brock?" Walt called again, "Could you tell me what happened? Do you know where Jesse is?"

"Bad men came," Brock whispered, "They took him away."

Walt's heart started pounding, like it was going to explode out of his chest.

"Did you hear them say anything… like did they call each other by name?"

"They said… about somebody named Todd. And somebody named Lydia." Brock slowly uncurled to gaze up at Walt with big brown eyes. "They hit him. They hit Jesse."

Walt's mind ran at a hundred miles an hour. If Jack's guys had Jesse, then Jesse was doomed. He would never get him back. He could probably figure out exactly where they were – probably at the same compound where they'd met to discuss the assassination of Mike's ten guys – but one man against an entire White Supremacist compound was basically suicide. That was if Jesse and Andrea were even still alive. If they'd struggled, if Andrea had tried to run or if Jesse had given them the lip he tended to give to people… then it was all over.

The only person Walt knew for sure that he could save was standing right in front of him.

"Brock." Walt put out his hand. "Come with me. I'm going to bring you somewhere safe, okay?" He was reminded of the words he had spoken to Jesse after he'd taken him from the crack den, after Jane… another disaster he was to blame for. _We're going to walk out of here and take you somewhere nice and safe…_

"Where?"

Walt looked at him.

"Probably… a fire station or the police station. Or social services. They'll take care of you."

Brock looked up at him, the fear seeming to ebb a little in his eyes to be replaced by a childish determination.

"I want to find my mom and Jesse."

Walt shook his head.

"Brock, we can't. I'm sorry. We can't. I need to get you somewhere safe now, okay? Listen to me… I'm going to bring you to the police and…"

"…I'll tell them."

Walt's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and he tried to read the comment a hundred different ways before he responded, thinking that Brock clearly couldn't mean what he thought he did. He had to be overly paranoid. He just had to get this kid off somewhere safe and then he'd go to Saul's man and he'd vanish forever.

"What do you mean by that, Brock?"

Brock's eyes showed fear again, but when he spoke, his voice didn't shake or waver.

"I'll tell them that you poisoned me."

Walt looked at him in fury and slammed his hand down against the night table.

"Are you serious? You're actually serious right now! If I'm the kind of man who's okay with poisoning a child… and you're blackmailing me? What makes you think that I won't take your little bratty ass outside, shoot you, and dump you in a barrel?"

Brock looked up at him and in the same voice whispered, "You're Jesse's friend."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Lambert and Nephew**

The disappearer needed some convincing when Walt had informed him that he'd need not one new identity, but two.

"What's with the kid?" the man inquired, looking into his rearview mirror at the back seats where Brock and Walt both sat, and Walt narrowed his eyes.

"I don't pay you to ask questions. But he's here of his own free will. He's not a kidnap victim. Are you, Brock?"

Brock stared out the window, his eyes slowly opening and shutting, before slowly shaking his head. Walt felt something deep in his gut, a need to protect this child, all that was left of Jesse. Maybe he hadn't been Jesse's by blood but… Jesse hadn't been Walt's son by blood, either, but he seemed to be one just the same.

"Here's your new driver's license," the man said, handing the card back to Walt, "Mr. Lambert. I'll get school records and a birth certificate drawn up for the kid next within a week. You want me to say he's your son?"

Walt hedged.

"Nephew. Son would just bring up too many questions."

The man shrugged, even though he was probably wondering why nephew wouldn't bring up the same exact questions.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Walt asked a few moments later.

"Franconia, New Hampshire. Sit back and relax, it's going to be a long ride."

Walt looked across at Brock.

"I beg of you… please do not say 'are we there yet?'"

Brock just kept looking out the window.

* * *

"Ninety-six percent. Good job, Jesse."

Jesse raised his eyes as he shifted, trying to relieve the tension in his back that came from being weighted with a giant chain.

Todd seemed to want a "thank you", but Jesse had no intention of giving it to him. They'd been here for hours already, in this dank, dark room with only a dim light emitting from the ceiling, and Jesse had already come up with a million plans for how he could take that blonde asshole out of the equation for good. Only one thing held him back, and that was Andrea, sitting on a bench with her hands tied behind her back and looking at him with an expression that he couldn't read.

He couldn't risk her. He couldn't.

"Well," Todd began again, not even seeming annoyed that Jesse didn't respond, not seeming… not seeming to feel much of anything… "I'll see you tomorrow. I suggest that the two of you get some rest." He walked over to Andrea, head held high, and reached behind her to open the cuffs. She still had the same chain looped around her stomach as the one that held Jesse, but now her arms hung free and she shook them to relieve the numbness. She stayed silent until Todd disappeared up the ladder and out of the grate.

Jesse swallowed hard once he was gone, trying not to sob.

"Baby, I'm so sorry for this. I'm so sorry…"

Andrea started to pace, back and forth, along the pulley. She crossed her arms.

Jesse swallowed hard and then he looked at her.

"First… first chance you get, you should run, Andrea." His voice was barely above a whisper. "I run, they kill you but if you run… if you make it… I'm okay with that."

Andrea lifted her head and narrowed her eyes at Jesse.

"No," she replied. There was a bite to her voice. "Either both of us are getting out of here, or neither of us is."


End file.
